#after tuesday all i’m gonna do is write and take a nap and repeat

[tojiscrack]

this post regards update schedule in the tags!

i wanna change my user. been wanting to for a while and need help. stuck between two users and i’m gonna let you pick.

the last time i set down a poll for you lot, you disappointed me 🤨 don’t do that again.

guys i don’t even like toji, i’m a GOJO girly through and through. but anything to do with toji is comical so 😙

the change won’t occur until next month, just so the people who are reading start of a new obsession (levi fic), liar, liar (megumi fic), count your blessings (series of gojo drabbles) are aware that yes, it’s still me, ack4rwoman, just under a new and improved username ;)

[blessednereid]

LFLLLL Prologue: Mutual Pining

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

WC: 3.5k

Taglist: @rogershoe

~

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        Lydia's House

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"Lydiaaaaaa!" You had barged into Lydia's house unannounced that afternoon. You had work that afternoon, but you called in sick, not physically, but emotionally. And only Lydia could help you. 

"LYDIA LORRAINE MARTIN!"

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Lydia's mom, Natalie, had come out of her office because of your shouts.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Martin, I didn't realize you were home. Your car wasn't in the driveway," you apologized.

"It's fine, dear. Lydia's upstairs taking a nap. You know how much of a heavy sleeper she is."

"Thank you, Mrs. Martin."

"Please, I've told you many times. Call me Natalie."

You nodded before heading upstairs, where Lydia's room was. 

You opened her door, and as you thought, she was lying on the bed, snoring and drooling. A sight you had gotten very used to since you first met her in third grade. 

"Lydia Lorraine Martin. We have a code-red!"

Immediately, Lydia jolted up from her bed and began flailing her arms in the air. She lost balance before falling off the side. 

"Oh, MY- Ugh." You went to help her sit back upright on the bed, sat next to her, and laid your head in her lap. 

"Y/n, what's wrong? Why did you wake me up?"

"We have a code red!!"

'Code reds' were what you and Lydia had when you caught real feelings for a guy. 

When you were younger and in middle school, Lydia had gotten a crush on the cutest guy in your math class. 

On Valentines Day, she wrote him a card and put it in his locker. The card said, "I think you're cute♡︎ What do you think about me?" Later that same day, she found out that almost all of the kids in your two's class had read the card. And on top of that, the guy was a huge jerk about it. 

Since then, you and Lydia vowed to never catch feelings for anyone until you were at least twenty-five. 

"Who is it, babe? What happened?" Lydia asked with a concerned tone. 

"It's Isaac."

"Your partner for the World History project?" 

"Yeah, him," you sighed. "We started getting closer, and he started talking to me, and we bonded over our moms' death, and there were carnival rides and vampires and freezy pops!"

"Woah, Woah, Woah! Slow down!"

"So basically, I did what you told me and took him to the county carnival, right? Then, he told me about his mom dying, and we talked about that, and then we went on rides and fought about their pace, and he was fine after like a two-hundred-foot drop. So then, we went on a rollercoaster, and after that, I was cold because I was wearing a light jacket."

"Okay, keep going…"

"So then he warmed me up by giving me a hug and then led me in the building, and we just hung out there until like five? Then when we were doing the slideshow, he started asking me about my room and shit, and when we were done, we watched that show I told you about, with the high school vampires."

"Oh, the babysitter one?"

"Yeah, that. So, he was actually interested. And then we just kept watching it together throughout the week since we finished the project. And then when we were presenting today, you know I have that stage fright. He just held my hand and calmed me down, and he listened to me after we were done, and he actually cared about it instead of dismissing it.

"Not that you dismiss it, Lydia." She nodded. 

"Anyways, after that, GB had to talk to us, and she ratted me out about writing his name down, and then he got slightly mad at me but not really, and then I explained. And he just told me he would see me tomorrow for our movie night…" you trailed off, debating whether you should tell her the last part.

"So that's when you realized?"

"After that, I turned away, and then he kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, 'see you tomorrow or something like that!"

Lydia chuckled. "So you have a code red?"

"Lydia, I have a hang-out with him tomorrow. I'm not gonna be able to fucking think straight!" 

"Babe, just go and see how it goes. Maybe it's a 24-hours thing, you know? Just adrenaline. It affected you like this because you don't go out."

"Lyds, it's not like that. It's different."

"Y/n, that's what I tell myself before every hookup," she deadpanned.

"Okay, yeah. You're right. It's just a 24-hour thing."

"It's just adrenaline, babes. Nothing more, nothing less."

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  Movie Night

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'Nothing more, nothing less…"

Those were the words that kept repeating in your head as you twisted Isaac's hair around your fingers around Isaac's hair as his head rested in your lap.

"Y/n, are you okay?"

You blinked rapidly.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine!" 

"It's just, you're not watching the show?" 

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about something."

"Whatever you say, princess…" 

Princess. The pet name made your heart flutter, and you thought you would explode. 

"Give me a minute, please!" was all you said before picking up your phone and dashing out the room.

You headed to the bathroom and dialed Lydia's number right after texting her "Code Red Emergency."

"It's not a 24-hours thing, is it?" she said when she picked up.

"No…"

"Okay, here's what we're gonna do…"

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 Previous Day

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       Isaac

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He watched you as you turned around. His nerves crawled through his spine, and he curled and unfurled his fingers before finding the confidence–, no, before finding the ability to move.

When his lips touched the side of your face, his heart was set aflame. 

'How did I just do that?' he thought. But entirely different words came out of his mouth. 

"See you," he said, and he internally pumped the air when he saw your lips curl upwards into a smile.

When he reached class, his actions had finally sunk into his mind. 

He went to his seat where his friend, Dillon Karis, sat beside him. Dillon was the only friend of Isaac, and they had known each other since middle school. 

"Dude!"

Dillon turned his head to his friend, whose urgent tone caught his attention.

"You know that girl I was telling you about?" Isaac said enthusiastically.

Dillon scoffed. "You mean the one who's been taking up all your Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights?

"Yeah, I remember her."

Isaac rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Dude, I think I may actually like her…"

"Holy—" Isaac cut him off.

"Shut up!"

Dillon took two breaths to calm down before speaking.

"Explain. Now!"

Isaac threw his head back.

"I don't know. It's just the way she makes me feel." He smiled. "It's like… the way my mom used to tell me about how she felt about my dad? It's weird."

"Bro, you barely know her. Are you sure?" 

"No, I'm not sure, but I think."

"Well, let me know. This is interesting. Shoulda brought some popcorn today, as I had planned," Dillon burst out laughing, and Isaac followed.

"Dude, I have to go to her house tomorrow."

"Why? I thought you already turned in the project." 

"We have our movie night," Isaac said before realizing what that might sound like to his friend. 

"Oh shit! So y'all already been going on dates?"

"No! No…" Isaac pointed his finger at his friend, signaling him to stop.

"Dude, so what are you gonna do?" 

"I don't know…"

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Movie Night

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Isaac was now highly flustered as he laid his head in your lap. You didn't bring up the kiss, so he assumed he either made you uncomfortable or you didn't like him enough to care. 

He looked at your face to see if there were any signals or indications, but he saw that you were completely zoned out. 

"Y/n, are you okay?"

You blinked before saying, "Oh yeah, I'm fine." 

Isaac raised his eyebrows before turning his attention back to the television. 

When you dashed out the room with little explanation, Isaac took his emotional matters into his own hands. He had decided to get rid of his feelings, sure that they were unrequited.

He headed out of your room and knocked on Stiles' door. 

"Come in!" he heard faintly, and he opened the door.

"Isaac, what's up?" Stiles had barely looked up from his work.

"I know we don't know each other that well, but I need some advice, and I figured that you probably know a lot about girls…"

"Not really, but I'm flattered you would think that. Please come in!"

Isaac stepped into the room and sat on Stiles' bed.

"Is this fine?" to which Stiles nodded.

"So, Isaac. Tell me what's going on," Stiles said before clasping his hands together. 

Isaac took multiple deep breaths. He was about to ask your brother how to get rid of his feelings for you. Who does that?

"I have a crush… on this girl. And I know that she doesn't like—" 

"You know, or you think?" 

"I think, but she's given no sign of liking me…"

"Okay, continue."

"She doesn't like me. And I was wondering if you knew if there was anything I could do to… get rid of the feelings I have…"

"Oh boy. Isaac, I wish I knew. I'm in that same position. However! I wouldn't tell you if I did know. Because you never know, right? Unless they've told you that they don't like you, you don't know for sure. And even then, it could happen in the future."

That was not the advice Isaac was hoping for, preferring to put himself out of his misery before he could get in it. 

"Alright, thanks, Stiles."

"No problem, bud!" 

Isaac walked back to your room, where you were laid down on your back. 

"Hey, where did you go?" 

"Nowhere, I just needed to… uh.. get some air." 

You squint your eyes, and even Isaac wasn't convinced by his lie, but he didn't say anything else before he laid beside you. 

"Lydia is having a party next Saturday. You should come."

"Oh, I don't think—"

"Please, Isaac? It'll be good for you to get out of your house like Mrs. GB said."

He couldn't resist the tug on his heart when you flashed your pouting eyes, and he had to give in.

"Fine, I'll see what I can do. That's not a promise." 

"Yay!" You exclaimed before pressing a kiss to his forehead. The action made Isaac's heart race, and all he wanted to do at that moment was kiss you. 

In fact, it was all he thought of for the next few minutes. 

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Isaac's Daydream

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"Love?" 

"Yes, babe?" you responded to him. 

"This is the spot. Stop going ahead of me." 

You mouthed an "Oh" before laying down on the blanket he set by the flowerbed. 

"So, whose house are we breaking into right now, Mr. Lahey?" you teased. You and Isaac were sitting in the backyard of a foreign house you had never seen, but you followed Isaac anyways.

"Yours."

You scoffed a 'what' as you had never seen the house in your life.

"Mines. Ours." He smirked.

Your face of pleasant surprise made his racing heart slow, as he thought you wouldn't like it. 

"This is our house?" 

"Well, it was my grandparent's house. They left it to me when they died. They said I can only get it when I turn 18, and now since we're together, It's our house."

You leaped onto his lap and kissed him feverishly. 

"This is the best surprise ever!"

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Reality

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"Isaac!" You yelled, and Isaac didn't know what you had said before. 

"Sorry! I just zoned out."

"It's not a problem."

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You

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

"So, do you want to watch a scary movie?" 

You actually weren't planning on doing any of what Lydia had suggested you do, which was to just come outright and tell him you like him. 

Instead, you chose to suffer in silence, thinking there was no way possible that Isaac liked you back. And even if he had, you two would be better off as friends… Right?

At least that is what you chose to tell yourself.

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Isaac Leaves

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When the movie was over, Isaac went home, and you prepared for bed. 

That night you dreamt of things you wanted in your life that you couldn't have. 

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Your Dream

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"Hey, Isaac?"

You two were curled up together on a couch watching a movie, much like your reality. However, a few things were different.

"What are we having for dinner?"

"Babe, we're in a hotel, and the only restaurants have a pre-set menu. If you want food, you either get what they have, or we Postmates." 

"But neither sounds good. I want Pasta!" 

He sighed. "Then lets Postmates pasta, babe."

"But I want you to make it," you pouted. 

"Okay, how about this." You turned to face him to hear his proposition. 

"I get you dessert with the food they have here, and I make you pasta tomorrow?" 

You smiled and wrapped an arm around his neck.

You hummed before saying, "That sounds perfect," and he kissed you with a burning passion.

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       Morning

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"Y/N! WAKE UP!" Stiles woke you up from your dream. 

"WHERE'S THE FIRE?" You flailed around before falling off the bed. 

Stiles chuckled loudly. 

"MIECZYSŁAW STILINSKI!

"IT'S A FUCKING SUNDAY!" 

You groaned loudly before grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him, effectively knocking him down but not ceasing his laughter.

"Relax, Relax! Dad's taking us out for breakfast."

You rolled your eyes heavily. "Ugh, I hate you. GO! Let me change!"

"Wait! Wait! I have a question…"

"What?" 

"What's going on between you and Lahey?"

You looked down and away from him. "Nothing," you murmured. 

When you looked back at him, his eyes were narrowed, and his forehead was crinkled. 

"I don't believe you one bit."

Your face heated. 

"There's nothing going on, Stiles."

He scoffed. "We may be fraternal, but we're still twins, Y/n. Whatever, I don't like him anyway."

"Why not, Sti?"

He moved his face closer to yours, and you craned your head back for air. 

"Because I'm your brother, I'm never gonna like any guy you date. None of them are worthy of my sister."

"Well, you don't have to hate him because nothing is going on."

"Hmmm... Sure," he stated simply before walking out. 

You got ready, wearing an off-shoulder baby blue top that was slightly… starchy in texture, as well as a pink plaid miniskirt and black slip-on sneakers. 

When you got downstairs, your dad and Stiles sighed a heavy "finally," and you mocked offense. 

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Waffle House

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You got in the car and began driving. You looked out the window enjoying all the sights while Stiles tried to coax your dad into talking about cases. 

Your dad turned and pulled into the parking lot of the Waffle House.

You sat at the counter and talked until someone came to get your drinks order. 

"So, Stiles, when are you going to bring a date home?" your dad asked with a squint. 

"Not anytime soon, He's still stuck on Lydia."

Stiles blushed. "Well, I mean, It's working. She knows who I am. "

"No, she doesn't. But… I do know this girl—" Stiles cut you off. 

"If it's not Lydia, then no, thank you. I'm stuck on her like white on rice."

Your dad interjected your argument. "Stiles, you sound like a stalker. Normally, we arrest people like you."

"Okay, Let's change the subject. Y/n, wanna tell dad about Isaac or should I?" 

You rolled your eyes. "Why should I? There's nothing going on?"

"Wait, who's Isaac?" your dad said while whirling his hand beside his head. 

"He was my partner for a project I had for World History."

Stiles laughed. "We presented on Friday. What have you guys been doing in your room?"

Your dad's eyes widened. "Why is he in your room?" 

"We just watch movies, Dad! We do nothing else!" 

"I highly doubt that. In fact, why don't I ask Isaac right now?" 

You blanched. "What do you mean?"

"He's coming up behind us," he said, looking past your head. 

You began choking when you saw him in your peripheral version. 

"Can I get you something t- Stiles!" Isaac popped up from behind you and began to ask for your drink orders. 

"Hey, Isaac," you said as you turned around. 

"Hey, Y/n!" His intonation was normal, his facial expression was off. 

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

Isaac

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, though his focus was on your dad's squinted gaze pointed directly at him. 

"Can I get a coffee?" Noah spoke up first. Isaac jotted down his order.

Stiles followed. 

"I'll get an Arnold Palmer!" he said while raising his hand. 

"Is that on the menu?" Isaac asked confusedly.

"No, but it's half of a lemonade, half of an iced tea in one glass."

"Okay… Arnold Palmer." 

"Y/n," the lovestruck boy said with a smile. "What about you?" 

The corners of your mouth turned up. "It's not on the menu, but is there an option for an iced coffee?" 

"Uh, I'm sure there is." He knew there wasn't, but he also knew you didn't like hot coffee much. 

"Are you sure? I don't want to--"

"It's fine, Y/n," he reassured.  

He walked away and headed to the kitchen to tell the cooks the drink order. 

"I need an iced coffee, a regular coffee, and A half-and-half lemonade-iced tea. Please," he added. 

Isaac glanced outside the kitchen window and gazed at you softly. He admired the way your eyes glimmered in the sun and how your hair bounced with every gesture you made. From this, he began to appreciate how amazing your hair looked and how the light refracted off of it. 

He smiled a lopsided grin as he watched the way your lips move. He imagined how they would feel on his. Soft. Smooth. He had the notion that you were probably experienced in that field, more so than he was. 

No. He couldn't imagine that. When he thought about the things he just thought, it sounded creepy and perverted. Besides, there was no way that you liked him back, so even thinking about it would just lead to further heartbreak. 

He grabbed your table's drinks and walked back, trying to ignore your smile because he couldn't stop the race that his heart ran whenever he saw it.

"Alright, here are your drinks."

"Isaac, can I talk to you outside?" asked Stiles.

"I'm actually working, so I can't do that. But, I can take your orders."

He jotted down each of your orders and went back to the kitchens.

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            You

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

"Stiles, I swear to God, I'm gonna hurt you."

"Not my fault you're over here pining after Lahey but won't do anything about it."

"Up your ass and off your high horse, Stiles!" You did your best to be quiet with your statement, but your dad still heard. 

"Hey, hey!"

"Sorry, Dad," you and Stiles said simultaneously. 

You watched the cooks prepare the food in front of you, but you hoped to see Isaac somehow, even though he was in the back.

You thought about his messy hair and how it felt in-between your fingers... How his eyes dilated with each smile, and the tiny specks of green in those ocean blue eyes were always able to calm you down.

You noticed how his lips were never chapped and how his cheeks looked like apples when he smiled, and the one dimple that was prominent in those moments as well. 

You wondered if this was how Lydia felt for the boy that caused their entire concept of code reds or if you began to feel something much more for the boy with the shy demeanor and quiet voice. 

When Isaac came back, you thought about how you could try to confess your feelings. But, you knew that if Isaac was barely willing to talk to you for a long time, it would be a snowball's chance in hell that he liked you the same way. 

"Alright, here's your waffles and your hash-browns, Y/n. Your sandwich, Sheriff, and your All-Star breakfast, Stiles."

"Thank you, Isaac," you said with a smile.

He turned to leave before you called out. 

"Um, Isaac!" He spun around on his heel at your calling with a questioning look on his face. 

He walked back towards you, prepared to write something else down on his order pad. 

"Movie night, tomorrow?"

He smiled. "Yeah, sure." 

"Dorota, you cannot tell me you do not like him."

"Mieczysław, I do not." 

Your dad cut in. "Sweetheart, and if you do?"

"I don't. Can we just leave it at that?" 

~

[ciarahollands]

i think ur writing is awesome so i shall request! :-D oh! what about laying your head on petey’s lap for the first time and he just gets all shy and blushy 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

❥ 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒔 — p.p

summary: peter freaks out the first time you put your head on his lap.

paring: peter parker x reader

word count: 1k+

author’s note: this is my first request hope you like it. feel free to ask me more requests in my inbox 🥺

⠀⠀ you were freezing — you could see your breath in the cold weather, you heard your teeth chattering, and was shivering as soon as you got out of your mom’s car. your parents couldn’t drop you off your normal time so you were at school about an hour and half early. you were cold and felt dead.

⠀⠀ an idea suddenly popped into your head remembering your boyfriend has early morning decathlon practice every tuesday. you put on your hood tightly pulling down the drawstrings and made a bow with the rest of the drawstring hanging from your hoodie. you prayed peter would come any minute now and was willing to ditch decathlon practice for you.

⠀⠀ ❝p-petey please stay with your m-me out in the freezing c-cold.❞ barely making the words out of your mouth mumbling it to yourself with your head facing your shoes. you were to caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice peter call out your name the first time.

⠀⠀ peter ran to you and repeated his sentence from seconds before, ❝my love what are you doing here so early?!❞

⠀⠀ your head shot up and you had a wide smile on your face running towards peter putting your arms around him. you sighed taking in his scent. ❝m-my mom had to leave early for work so s-she had to drop me off early b-because my dad’s out of town❞ you stuttered into his chest.

⠀⠀ peter frowned moving your chin upward so he could see your face giving you a small kiss. ❝my love i’m sorry. can’t you just go inside?❞ your lips connected once more enjoying his soft and warm lips pressed against yours.

⠀⠀ ❝your lips are so warm...❞ mumbling into his lips. ❝well yours are freezing.❞ peter responded back.

⠀⠀ you continued to kiss peter’s lips softly then rested you forehead against after remembering to answer peter’s question before your lips had connected. ❝n-no i’m not apart of an early morning sport or club so i’m stuck out here. they don’t want students “messing” around in the halls.❞

⠀⠀ ❝maybe you can come inside with me and just come to decathlon practice?❞ peter said giving you a sympathetic look.

⠀⠀ you sighed, ❝no i can’t mr. harrington is the one who kicked me out of the building.❞

⠀⠀ peter cupped your face giving you a small kiss and pouted, ❝is there anything i can do my love?❞

⠀⠀ ❝actually there i-is. petey can you stay with me... please.❞ you said trying not to sound desperate.

⠀⠀ peter simply nodded smiling at you and taking look at all the features of your face. you had a red nose, beautiful sparkling eyes, lightly chapped lips, and had the worse under eye bags. you still looked perfect to him but he was definitely worried about your under eye bags.

⠀⠀ you noticed him looking at you then his features suddenly changed having furrowed brows and pouted lips. ❝what?❞

⠀⠀ ❝have you been getting any sleep?❞ peter responded back while caressing his thumbs on you rosed cheeks.

⠀⠀ you looked down at your shoes knowing peter wouldn’t like your response. ❝w-well i mean i’ve been stressed out with math but really it was just last night because i couldn’t figure out our english paper.❞

⠀⠀ peter put his hands down and grabbed both of your hands kissing the top of each of your hands. ❝y/n wasn’t that assigned a week ago? you could have asked me for help.❞

⠀⠀ you smiled at his actions then rolled your eyes at his response. ❝you know i procrastinate all my work peter! it’s fine i got it done with a lot of coffee... and many mental breakdowns.❞ mumbling the last part of your sentence.

⠀⠀ you sighed doing the same actions as peter kissing both of his hands. ❝petey can you just sit down with me on the bench, i’m cold and tired of standing.❞

⠀⠀ your boyfriend smiled nodding his head letting you lead the way to the place you were sitting at. once the both of you sat down you put your head in his shoulder and intertwined your hand to his.

⠀⠀ ❝you gonna be okay?❞ peter asked once more being the concerning boyfriend he is.

⠀⠀ ❝what do you mean?❞ you replied confused by his question.

⠀⠀ ❝i mean like with your classes you don’t think you’re going to fall asleep? i know you have been stressing. i don’t want you to overstress yourself by missing class.❞

⠀⠀ you sighed — peter worrying so much about you was something as simple as sleeping baffled you but you appreciated. ❝petey i’m going to be okay i just need to take a nap. is that okay with you?❞

⠀⠀ peter smiled at the sound of your voice it was soft and adorable. ❝of course you can fall asleep on my sh-❞ you swiftly moved from his shoulder setting your head on his lap using it as a pillow — taking peter by surprise by the sudden affection and intimacy. ❝thanks you’re the best❞ giving him a dorky grin.

⠀⠀ you were comfortably laying your head on your boyfriend‘s lap when you notice his jacket set by his backpack. ❝peter why aren’t you wearing your jacket?!❞

⠀⠀ peter laughed, ❝i walked here dummy i’m warm enough with this hoodie.❞ emphasizing his hoodie you had gotten him for his birthday. you made grabby hands implying him to give you his jacket so you could use it. peter playful rolled his eyes passing you the jacket.

⠀⠀ you put your arms through each sleeve and slightly pulled them down coving your hands as well. how you loved the extra long sleeves on his jacket.

⠀⠀ peter looked down at you putting on his jacket backwards. ❝what are you doing?❞

⠀⠀ ❝i’m using it as a blanket. you’re my pillow and your jacket is my blanket.❞ you replied playfully.

⠀⠀ peter looked down at you once again — how adorable you looked with your rosy cheeks, beautiful smile, and you with his jacket. in all honesty peter was still freaking out — his face felt all hot, his heart was beating out of his chest and was pretty sure his voice was small every time he opened his mouth because of how nervous he was.

⠀⠀ your hands went to peter’s face & squished his cheeks with one of your hands. ❝petey you sure you’re not cold? your cheeks are all pink.❞

⠀⠀ ❝i’m not cold trust me bubs. i’ll tell you if you do.❞ you scrunched you’re face and pretended to look angry. ❝you better.❞

⠀⠀ you placed you hand back down on your chest and whisper something to peter. ❝petey come closer...❞

⠀⠀ peter leaned down inches below your face. ❝what?❞ you cupped his face and pressed you lips against his before he could respond. you pulled away and pecked his lips three times. ❝did that help.❞ peter smiled nodding his head and pulled his body back up.

⠀⠀ you closed your eyes placing the hood over your face. ❝i know you hate how you look like when you sleep but you don’t need to cover your face❞ peter said pouting.

⠀⠀ ❝it’s not that, my face is just cold.❞ you mumbled tapping peter’s body looking for his hands grabbing them. he placed his hands on your chest feeling your calm breathing against his palms.

⠀⠀ part of him was sad that he wouldn’t be able your face while you were peacefully sleeping but the other half was relieved that you couldn’t see him because he was still a complete and utter blushing nervous mess. god how nervous you made him with something an intimate action simple as laying your head on his lap.

tag list:

@saturnpeter @blushypetey

[cinnaminsvga]

Wish on a Fish | Namjoon

→ summary: namjoon’s got fish-shaped pastries on the brain, and you’ve got namjoon-shaped space in your heart. you both learn to make do. → genre: fluff, humor → words: 3.9K → a/n: i had this in my wips since october 2018 and i decided to finish it because it’s loving namjoon hours (but when is it not?) also this was inspired by this galaxy brain quote from the man himself: “ain’t no fish inside”

“Y/N has a crush on you.”

The owner of the voice giggles when Namjoon lifts his head up in confusion, a sticky note with various mathematical equations hanging precariously from his forehead. An unflattering doodle of what appears to be a worm with Yoongi’s face has imprinted itself like a makeshift tattoo from where his cheek had rested upon his notebook. None of that information explains what year he has woken up in, what dimensions he has slipped into, nor why Hoseok has decided to tell him this very unlikely factoid when he was clearly busy with his guilt nap.

[guilt nap (n.) when Namjoon has kept his eyes open for an extended amount of time, to the point where colors start making noise and numbers start looking like letters, so he sleeps in various public places to reboot his brain; hardly ever works but he still tries.]

“Whuzzat?” Namjoon asks, verbose. The sticky note is on its last dredges of stickiness, and Hoseok watches it flop down from its perch and into his friend’s agape mouth. Hoseok plucks it away kindly, but Namjoon doesn’t even seem to have noticed its disappearance.

“You look like shit,” Hoseok replies instead, pulling a chair beside Namjoon and carefully pushing aside what appears to be a glass of curdled milk. Hoseok’s nose crinkles in disgust. “Dude. Was this the milk tea from free Boba Tuesday?”

“Yeah?” Namjoon blinks owlishly. It appears that his brain hasn’t fully awakened yet, because he goes to grab the cup and bring it to his lips when Hoseok saves him by plucking the offending object out of his hands too.

“Namjoon. Free Boba Tuesday was three days ago. It’s Friday evening. This is three-day-old milk tea.”

“No way. You’re kidding,” Namjoon says, peering into the cup and making a startled face at the solidified mass. He jiggles it in wonder, beholding in its jelliness. “Wow. Do you think I could donate this to the bio labs? I heard they were looking for more e. coli samples.”

“Why the fuck would this have e. coli in it? Unless you took a shit in—“ Hoseok begins, but clamps his mouth shut when it looks like Namjoon is about to defend himself. He backtracks, “You know what? I don’t want to know.”

“Why are you here again?” Namjoon grumbles, trying to salvage his crumpled notes by smoothing them with his hands. He rips one of them in half, and he gazes at the mess with the eyes of a defeated man. He sighs. “Look, I’m really busy right now. I don’t have time to get roasted AND study for finals at the same time. You’re gonna have to schedule an appointment with me.”

“As much as I enjoy making fun of your poor hygiene and self-care skills, I have a reason for being here. Like I just said, I came here to tell you that Y/N has a crush on you,” Hoseok repeats, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Heard her talking about you in the labs this morning.”

Namjoon stares at him. Hoseok watches in worry as his friend’s irises start to become unfocused slightly.

“Dude,” Hoseok says, waving a hand in front of him. “Did you hear what I said?” Namjoon thankfully blinks back.

“Yeah. Okay, thanks.” Namjoon finally says, before grabbing his notebook to see where he left off. He doesn’t notice that his notes are upside down when he begins to write gibberish that must only make sense to him. Hoseok thinks he can see the word ‘churros’ somewhere in there, but he isn’t 100% certain.

Namjoon continues, “Do you think the cafeteria is still open at this hour? I don’t think I’ve drunk water in two days.”

“Okay, thanks? That’s all you have to say to my jawdropping discovery?” Hoseok exclaims, pinching Namjoon’s cheek. The Yoongi doodle on his cheek smudges from his fingers, making him appear even wormier than before. “Y/N is in your Chemistry class, right? The one with the serial killer professor?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon hums, scratching out the word ‘churro’ and replacing it with ‘grilled cheese’ instead. The amount of concentration on his face is disconcerting, to say the least. It looks like he’s writing down a grocery list beside his calculus homework. “Professor Kang isn’t a serial killer, by the way. He’s just stressed.”

Hoseok gives his friend a once-over, disbelieving. “Yeah, I can see why you’d defend him. Takes one to know one,” he snorts, grimacing at the pit stains lining his friend’s gray shirt. “Honestly, Y/N must be a serial killer herself if she thinks you’re worth any sort of attraction. You smell like the market, dude.”

“Speaking of, do you know what I want from the market right now?” Namjoon drops his pen, leaving an unfinished doodle of another portrait of wormy Yoongi screaming in terror under the heat of a magnifying glass. Hoseok reminds himself to tell his hyung to lock his doors later that evening.

“Uhh… No?”

“Those silly fish cake things, with the red bean,” Namjoon murmurs, determination set in his jaw. He stands up suddenly, slamming his notebooks closed and stuffing them into his backpack. In his hurry, he knocks over the cup of curdled milk tea all over the library floor, and Hoseok half-expects it to start melting the carpet like acid. “It’s funny though, because why the hell would they shape them like that? Ain’t no fish inside… Why would they try to deceive us like that?”

“Dude, you okay?” Hoseok asks, slightly worried for his friend but not worried enough to feel bothered to stop him from potentially running into oncoming traffic.

“Need a snack. Be back,” Namjoon says, rushing out of the library in a speed uncanny for the long-legged man. Hoseok watches as he reaches the front entrance of the library exit, before he inadvertently stops in his tracks, and looks back at the still seated Hoseok.

Hoseok raises a brow. “You forgetting something?”

Namjoon opens his mouth. Closes it. Scrunches up his face like he’s just released a fart. Then, “Hey. I just rhymed. That’s cool,” he says in awe of himself, before finally making his way out of the library without waving goodbye.

Left behind to contemplate his friend choices, Hoseok heaves a heavy sigh, staring forlornly at the abandoned doodle of worm Yoongi. He shakes his head, defeated. “I tried, Y/N. I really did.”

——***——

Namjoon makes his way to the market, after a quick stop to his apartment for a change of clothes. He had only thought to change when a woman and her young daughter had taken one sniff from his general direction and ran quickly into a nearby shop to avoid his cloying stench. He at least had the decency to give the duo a sheepish look before scuttling off to his apartment in embarrassment.

Now slightly better smelling but not any less sleep-deprived, Namjoon enters the nearby open market with an agenda. He passes numerous food stalls, almost being tempted by the loud aunties to buy every single food product that he can fit into his ink-stained hands. He can’t afford to settle for any other sugary product, not when he already has his eye on the main prize.

His torment does not last long because over in the corner of the street where a long line has formed, he sees the sign for freshly cooked bungeoppang.

He hurries over, almost tripping over his own feet when he makes it to the end of the line. For whatever reason, the entirety of Seoul has also decided that they’d also like to eat some bungeoppang today as the line was over 30 people long. Namjoon glances at his watch, seeing that he only has 5 hours left until his next final and he desperately needs to finish revising the last chapter of his notes.

He sees the stall for hotteok close by where the line is significantly shorter. He’s partially debating on switching lanes and settling for his second favorite treat when he sees a familiar head of hair standing by the bungeoppang stall, seemingly debating the same thing as himself.

It’s you.

“Damn, what a line…” Namjoon hears you say to yourself, gazing longingly at the piping hot red bean goodness. Shaking your head, you sigh deeply, ready to leave bungeoppang-less. You’re just about to walk out of sight from Namjoon when he finally thinks to call out to you in greeting.

“Y/N! Over here!” He calls out, and he wonders if you’ll hear him over the sound of the crowd. Surprisingly, you turn around swiftly at the sound of his voice, able to pinpoint his hoarse voice anytime and anywhere. Your cheeks darken when you see him, apparently blind to the fact that he did not look the least bit decent with his dark eyebags and the telltale sign of dried drool on the side of his cheek. To you, he’ll always look gorgeous, even underneath the dingy fluorescent lights of the night market.

“Namjoon? What a coincidence to see you here!” You greet back, walking towards him with a skip in your step. To the chagrin of the five other people behind Namjoon, you insert yourself beside him and into the line for the bungeoppang. Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind, but that could also be the fact that his brain was running on 2 hours of sleep and three cans of energy drinks, but who can say?

“Same here. Are you here for a pre-exam snack too?”

“Sorta,” you hum, smiling. “I was about to ditch this place for the kimbap place near the Arts building because of this line, but then I saw you here so I guess I’ll brave the wait time with you.”

“Oh, sorry to interrupt you from your plans, then.” Namjoon sounds genuinely remorseful, and you have to force yourself not to coo at his crestfallen face. “I just wanted to say hello, you know?”

“It’s no problem, really. I really did have a craving for some bungeoppang, so it’s not like I’m losing anything. Besides, I miss talking to you, so it’s no big deal,” you say the last part quietly, eyes turning downwards in embarrassment. “It’s just… I haven’t seen you in so long.”

However, you’re not really embarrassed––not quite. It is well known around your circle of friends that you have a massive crush on the Biochemistry major, much to the confusion of everyone who knows you. Not to say that Namjoon was terrible, but when you stop to think about how… out of it he was, it’s kind of hard to imagine why you would want to pursue a relationship with him. Dozens of people have already tried their hand at confessing to him, but to no avail. The dude is as dense as a rock, and perhaps that is part of the appeal to you. You always have been a bit of a morosexual.

Besides, you have an advantage: you’re blinded by a misplaced determination for all things Kim Namjoon. In your eyes, all it takes is a few psychological tricks to get his head out of his ass, and you are set for life. If treating Namjoon like a psychology experiment seems unethical to others, well. Let’s just see who is crying when you eventually snatch his heart and win his hand.

If Hoseok had promised his end of the deal, you know that he’s planted the seed in Namjoon already. Assuming things are going according to plan, then Hoseok should have told him about your not-so-secret crush on him, so Namjoon should be aware of your attraction to him. At a glance, Namjoon doesn’t seem to be treating you any differently, but that could just be his way of being polite. Or, you know. He could also be an idiot. Passing him at the market only means another opportunity for you to butter him up and make him yours.

“I miss talking to you too,” Namjoon replies, dimples showing from how hard he’s smiling. You feel your heart jump up to your throat and fall back down to your ass.

“Really? Could’ve sworn that you’ve been avoiding me. Haven’t seen you in two weeks!” you say accusingly, both as a joke but also for real. The hurt is probably evident on your face, even to the likes of Namjoon.

He pouts ruefully at you. “Aw, you know I don’t mean to. I have six finals this term, and I’m terribly behind because of all the extra-curriculars I’ve had to take. You know I could never avoid you on purpose,” he says, brows furrowed in concern. If that isn’t enough, he pulls the rug from under you by brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes and tucks it gently behind your ear.

Unbeknownst to the lanky brunette, his words and actions have caused you to start combusting on the inside with unbridled endearment. How the actual fuck could he say that shit with a straight face? And to your weak and fragile heart? Right in front of your bungeoppang? The nerve of this guy! There’s no way that your feelings aren’t unreciprocated––your plan must have worked!

You take a shaky breath, gathering your thoughts. As much as his words seem like an indication of his feelings, you have to make sure. You didn’t survive all these years as one of your university’s top student researchers without knowing the importance of testing your hypothesis. You need to run some tests first before coming to a conclusion.

“Speaking of avoiding friends… I haven’t seen Hoseok in a while. I miss hanging out with him and Yoongi,” you say as nonchalantly as you can, observing Namjoon from the corner of your eye. Namjoon nods in agreement, stepping forward as the line begins to shorten bit by bit. You can almost see the vendor flipping the cakes in their flat iron griddles from where you stand.

“Me too. I saw Hoseok just a few minutes ago before I left to go here. Haven’t seen Yoongi since that party at Seokjin’s, but that’s about it.”

“Oh? You just saw Hoseok? Did he say anything… in particular?” you ask. You feel sweat beginning to build along your palms, and you have to grasp the ends of your sweater to keep yourself from fidgeting. You wait with bated breath as the boy thinks of a response.

“Yeah actually. He mentioned something about you too––wait, hold that thought,” Namjoon stops himself, and you only realize then that you’ve arrived at the front of the line. He turns to you expectantly. “You wanna order first?”

“Huh?” You stare at him dumbfoundedly, your brain fighting to catch up with your surroundings. It isn’t until you hear the irritated sounds of the impatient customers behind you that you manage to snap out of your trance. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I just want one original flavor please.”

“I’ll have three,” Namjoon says, and neither you nor the vendor says anything about the amount he has ordered. Who was anyone to judge him and his fondness for fish-shaped pastries?

Just as you are about to hand over your own payment to the saleslady, Namjoon shoves a bill over yours, nudging your hands away. You squawk indignantly, your protests bubbling underneath your tongue before he gives you a firm look.

“No buts. I’m paying this time as an apology for ignoring you over school,” he says, grinning. You hear the vendor giggle at the two of you, remarking how cute the two of you are. “Thanks,” Namjoon replies, leaving the change for the auntie as a tip. The flush enveloping your face refuses to die, even as the two of you exit the market together.

“You really didn’t have to pay for me,” you mutter, nibbling the treat and letting the warmth envelope you in the cold weather. When you glance at him, you see Namjoon take a huge bite of his first fish cake, cheeks bulging in what most might have found unattractive. You, on the other hand, have to keep yourself from swooning in delight.

“Of course I did,” Namjoon says, or at least, he tries to. He speaks with his mouth full, but luckily you’ve lived with rambunctious males all your life and have learned the fine art of deciphering words even with chunks of food in the way. He successfully swallows the pastry down thickly, and you have to stop yourself from ogling his throat for too long. “You’re my friend, and I care about all of my friends.”

At his innocent admission, your mood is shot down almost immediately, the icy feeling of disappointment running down your back. You’re just his friend, your brain echoes unhelpfully. Your excitement a while ago had been premature––he had only said those sweet words as a friend. At that realization, you drop your gaze down to the pavement, unwilling to show him your sorrow.

Namjoon slows in his walk, noticing your sulking almost immediately. “Hey, you alright?” he asks, patting your back as the two of you stop at a crosswalk. You force yourself not to flinch at his touch.

“Um. I’m fine. Sorry, I just started thinking about the final I have tomorrow,” you lie, keeping your voice steady. The fact that your plan had failed before it even had the chance to begin makes you wonder why you had even thought you would be able to get Namjoon to like you back in the first place. What is the point, when others have tried before you and have failed miserably? What makes you special?

It’s hard to let go though, not with how gentle and kind his touch is as he smooths his hand over your shoulders, rubbing gently. It’s hard to not fall in love with this gigantic dork, with his wire-framed glasses and his ill-fitting flannel shirt. Hell, even the stupid doodle of Yoongi as a worm on his cheek is cute as fuck. Everything about this stupidly endearing genius makes you want to try and try again, even if failure is just around the corner.

Maybe the biggest idiot at the end of the day is yourself. Love really does make all of us stupid, and you are just another victim of one of Cupid’s arrows. That bow-wielding diaper-wearing man can kiss your ass, you surmise.

“Finals suck, but I know you can do it,” Namjoon says with painfully genuine confidence. You ignore the way your heart seizes, biting the head of your fish cake with much more force than necessary.

The two of you cross the street in silence, your forearms touching occasionally as you get closer to the library. You know that Namjoon is probably going to head back there, so you’re about to say your goodbyes and run to your dorm and sing along to some sad Adele songs when Namjoon’s voice stops you once more.

“Hey. I forgot to say a while ago, but I was just about to tell you about Hoseok before we got our bungeoppang,” he says.

You freeze immediately. In those crummy k-dramas, this is always where the girl gets her heartbroken, you realize. Under the streetlamps of a cool spring evening, with no one else in sight. Just you, him, and the remains of your dignity all over the floor.

You brace yourself for the inevitable rejection that you are sure that will follow. You grit your teeth, already rehearsing the jokes you’ll have to say to numb the incoming pain. You’ll have to pretend that everything Hoseok said was just a stupid rumor, that there is no way that you could ever have a crush on him. The both of you will laugh, with him unaware of the way your heart has begun to crumble into tiny pieces with every huff of air you inhale in his presence. You ready yourself, and you tell yourself that you’ll get over it.

But the rejection doesn’t come. Instead, you’re hit by a freight train.

Namjoon is totally serious when he says, “Hoseok told me it was Friday today and that Free Boba Tuesday was three days ago, but I checked my watch and it says it’s February 20, which is a Wednesday. Do you think he was messing with me?”

You gawk at him. You clear your throat. “I-I’m sorry, but what?”

“I’m not crazy, right?” Namjoon pulls out his phone, showing you the home screen where it clearly says the supposed date today. He points at it, finger trembling with an inordinate amount of vigor. “Am I blind? That says February 20!”

Your heart, which once was ready to burst, slowly reassembles itself with frightening speed when you finish processing his words. No, it is not because you have been reinvigorated with the hope of possibly having your attraction reciprocated, but rather, because you can’t believe you have ever decided to give your heart away to a man who didn’t even know that today was, in fact, April 5. Oh my god.

There is absolutely no need to fear that Namjoon might be swept away by someone else, because only you would be dumb enough to have a crush on someone so absolutely, mind-bendingly, idiotic as him.

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah?” he looks at quizzically, neck tinted a soft pink from the cold. The soft glow of the streetlamps gives him a soft halo as he proceeds to stuff his mouth with a large bite of bungeoppang. He smiles through the fullness of his cheeks, dimples ever-present and endearing as they always have been.

Your mouth opens, then closes. Your resolve to confess to him has long since dissipated, but your adoration for him does not waver in the slightest. All you feel is fatigue and a dire need to snuggle into your warmest blankets and dream about fish pastries and a lanky, bespectacled man. Pursuing Namjoon can wait another day, maybe when both of you are a bit more lucid and free from all your pressing assessments. For now…

“Namjoon, I want you to go home and take some rest, okay? If I hear from Hoseok or anyone that you’re still cooped up in that library, I’ll ban you from bungeoppang for the rest of the semester, is that clear?” Your voice is authoritative, but the tenderness in the way you caress his cheek gives you away. Namjoon swallows his bite, blinking owlishly at your sudden display of gentleness.

“O...okay?”

“Good,” you nod firmly, patting his cheek once more and swiping away some stray red bean on his lips. Your fingers burn where they touch him. You step away from him, heading towards the opposite direction. “See you soon, Joon?”

“Y-yeah?” Namjoon stutters out, still at a loss from your odd behavior. “See you, Y/N.”

When you are nothing but a speck of blue amidst a sea of darkness, Namjoon brings a hand to where your fingers had brushed his lips, tapping against it thoughtfully as he stares after where you had been moments ago.

He smiles to himself, shaking his head. “Nice rhyme,” he chuckles, walking away from the library and towards his own apartment. Even with his mind still foggy with math equations and chemistry nomenclature, his heart still manages to do a flip at the thought of seeing you again soon.

Only two finals away.

[eirian-houpe]

TMI Tuesday

Happy Tuesday. It’s only 9:15am and already I could use a nap. LOL  Gonna be one of /those/ days I think, which also probably means I’m going to be in an ‘I’ve reached my limits with his shit’ kind of mood, and there’s a bunch of stuff lurking in that category.

Still, writing has been happening on and off, between other tasks and chores, and I FINALLY (after only 3 and a half years or so) posted the next chapter of a mammoth Tolkien, Thranduilcentric fic that I’ve been writing - which now brings it firmly back into the realms of Work In Progress.  Also, and quite exciting/freeing, I have deleted all of my fics from ff.net (dreadful place! Can’t read the fic for the ads, and I’ve had more fic stolen from there than anywhere else). So I feel good about that, and you can expect it to start popping up on AO3, when I get the chance to convert/upload it.

Please remember: if you read a fic you enjoyed on AO3 or on Tumblr (not just mine), please take the time to comment and/or leave kudos, and to reach out on TMI Tuesday. It means a lot to the writers and artists.

Writer to writer engagement is part of fandom lifeblood.  Writing can be a very solitary and lonely activity, and when writers talk, it can enhance, it can inspire, it can bolster confidence, it can do ALL of those things, but lately, one reason and another - lack mostly - it has had the opposite effect (not just for me). That’s one reason that I will ALWAYS send a TMI question to my fellow writers.

Posted this week:

This week I posted:

Chapter 26 of Laer o Faen

A near fatal encounter with the Serpents of the North leaves Greenwood the Great's queen with but one choice, one that cost her own life, but she makes a promise to her beloved King, born of a love that has already lasted through more than an age of Middle Earth, and remains the only hope to warm a heart fallen behind a wall of despair. (Mingled Movie/book canon, the span of the entire story takes in events from the 1st - 4th Ages of Middle Earth.)

Chapter 4 of Not Yours To Keep

While grieving the loss of the fourteenth Cleon, the younger brother he loved as a son, Day seeks distraction in the company of a new concubine from the Gossamer Court. No one could have predicted the events that follow - nor the way in which Cleon XIII decides to deal with the situation.

Chapter 1 of If: As We Try

Donovan is missing. Has the pressure of being commander of an SOG unit, a husband, and new father finally got to him? And will the team sell out to protect their own lives?

On the cards for this week:.

Disparate Pathways - Chapter 45

Gold has a past, a past that he has rejected, but it seems one that will not let him go. Belle, daughter of Governor Maurice French has been kidnapped, along with her mother, and just as the authorities raid the organization that is holding her hostage, decides to make her own bid for freedom, unknowingly derailing an undercover sting, and Agent Milnor has not choice but to take her into ‘protective custody,’ but is he all that he seems? As the threads of the story grow more tangled and the threat to Belle, and to Gold, her appointed protector, grow ever more real, a growing, mutual attraction makes everything far more desperate and far too personal for Gold to ignore what he knows to be the truth.

What the Actual Fuck! - Chapter 8

Prime Minister Robert Sutherland is feeling pressured, and isn’t prepared to acquiesce to the repeated challenges from within his cabinet nor the wider circle of those around him. He resorts to drastic measures to ascertain who can be trusted, turning to an ‘old friend’ to help him separate the wheat from the chaff. Said friend promises to send in his best operative to assist the PM, the trouble is the operative finds out more than Robert necessarily wants to know, and all this just as all hell is breaking loose around him; people hurt, Britain in chaos and multiple deaths push him into making some hard hitting decisions in order to safeguard himself, the country, and the people he cares about.

Next up:

Not Yours To Keep - Chapter 7

While grieving the loss of the fourteenth Cleon, the younger brother he loved as a son, Day seeks distraction in the company of a new concubine from the Gossamer Court. No one could have predicted the events that follow - nor the way in which Cleon XIII decides to deal with the situation.

Ask suggestions

Ask something about any of my fics (full list is below the cut). If you want specifics from some fics that are already outlined, you can ask about:

Disparate Pathways, Chapters 43 through 55 All Our Past Mistakes, Chapters 11 through 44 Lover’s Leap Series, Stories 15 through 31 Time’s Curse, Chapters 4 through 10 Laer o Faen, Chapter 27 Stargate: Atlantis, Harms Way or any of the 20 fics in the series.

Ask something of any of my characters in general or you can get really specific if you like - for example you might want to ask Gold from Pawn Shop a question about a chapter, a thought, a feeling… (the world is your oyster really)

Ask about my process as a writer, what makes me tick,, or even ask about me personally. There’s also This Guessing Game that is still available for you to play.

Also, if you want to see a specific character or fic featured in Three Things Thursday, or Saturday Secret, feel free to send in prompts, if no one does, then either the choice will be random or they just won’t happen at all. I made an analogy for why that might be in a different post about a car stuck in the mud with spinning wheels.

You can find all my fics currently on AO3 here, and there is a full list under this cut.

Storybrooke’s Best Kept Secret - Rumbelle

Darkness In Hyperion Heights - Woven Beauty au

Seven Tastes - Rumbelle

Tuesday - Rushbelle AU

The Language of Flowers Series - Rumbelle

Disparate Pathways - Rumbelle AU

Scattered - Rumbelle AU

All Our Past Mistakes - Rumbelle AU

What the Actual Fuck! - Sutherelle

Breathe - Rushbelle

The Lover’s Leap Series - Rumbelle

Awakening - Rumbelle

War Is Coming To Storybrooke - Rumbelle

Given No Choice - Rush

Thoughts On A Happy Ending Series - Rumbelle

Darker Hearts Series - Wish!Rumbelle

Modern Wonders - a OUAT/Alice crossover

Time’s Curse - Rumbelle

The Pawn Shop On Main Street - Rumbelle

The Mansion On the Edge of Town - Rumbelle with a side of Jefferson

Cobra: In Your Prayers - Cobra/FatWS/UC:Undercover et al

To See Series - Rumbelle

Nobody Knew (Bingo) - Rumbelle

Secret of the Seas - Rumbelle AU

Butterfly and Phoenix - ST:DSC

Laer o Faen - Tolkien

Ship’s Rats - ST: DCS

I Amar Boe Men Heb - Tolkien

Coming Down - Halt and Catch Fire

Armor of Ice - Halt and Catch Fire

Duath i-Achas Eriol - Tolkien

Balance of Terror - Sleeper Cell

What To Believe - UC: Undercover

If: In The End - UC Undercover

Precious - The Mummy Series

Forbidden - The Mummy Series

Power Is - The Mummy Series

Angel of the Heart - The Mummy Series

Star of the Morning - The Mummy Series

Not Yours To Remember - Foundation (TV)

Here are fics that haven’t yet been started, but are in the Muse’s bucket.

The Miner’s Day Festival - Rumbelle

Aftermath - Rumbelle (with a side of madness)

Saving The Dark One (WT) A twist on a twist of Rumplestiltskin.

Brought To You By The Color… (Red)

Calcul(us)

(In)consistent equation

The Boston Storybrooke Line

Breaking the Waves (Movie AU)

ILP (or IEP) for Rumple.

One Last Wish

In Service to My Son

Playground Games

Bright Eyed and Bushy Tailed

“Only Remembered For What We Have Done.”

Librarian: UC

[farklelucas]

when they are thinking of a name for their Kid, Lucas wants to name it something original but Farkle is like "FUCK THAT, we are naming our children actual names"

LITERALLY. LITERALLY! lucas was like “let’s name them something unique and cool like your name.” and farkle was like “no! fuck that! they’re not having weird names!!!” okay wait lemme write a drabble

–

The baby comes on a Tuesday at 3:45 pm, and neither of them are prepared.

It’s 3:40 pm; Farkle is pacing outside in the waiting room, and Lucas idly reaches out and touches him every time he walks past. It’s been nearly sixteen hours, and they finally got kicked out of the delivery room when Farkle began telling the doctor what exactly he was doing wrong. Maya nearly launched herself off of the table to wring his neck, so they figured it was wise to leave - it had been a long time coming anyway.

“We’re not ready,” Farkle says, for the millionth time, as he walks up and down the hall. “We don’t have the crib set up. I haven’t mastered how to tell if a bottle is too hot. We don’t even have a name picked out! I -”

“Baby,” Lucas says, with all the calm and patience of a man who isn’t waiting for his child to be born. Farkle finds it ridiculously unfair that he can be this calm in this situation. He both loves and hates it; it’s both calming and infuriating. “We’ll be fine. Zay and Charlie are at home setting up the crib. I know how to tell if a bottle is too hot, and I know you learned, because you’ve been studying for, like, a month now. And we could talk about names now if you weren’t so busy freaking out.”

Farkle lets out a small whine from the back of his throat, and drops down into the chair next to Lucas. “I know,” he murmurs. He can hear the petulance and childishness in his own voice, but he can’t even stop himself, and that’s the worst part. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Luckily for him, Lucas just smiles, that beautiful smile that Farkle loves so much. He reaches out his hand and wraps his arm around Farkle’s shoulder lightly, rubbing at his shoulder blade with his thumb. “We’re gonna be okay,” he promises. And when he says it, Farkle almost believes it. (Almost.)

He opens his mouth to reply, but the door swings open, and Riley smiles at them, nearly blinding him with her pretty pearly whites. He doesn’t know how she can be so calm after just having watched her best friend give birth for nearly, well, sixteen hours. He’s not calm and he hasn’t even been here the whole time. (Lucas sent him home at some point to take a shower and a nap, because he was “wearing a hole in the floor” with all his pacing.) “Well,” Riley says cheerfully, and she sounds ecstatic. “You want to come on in and meet your son?”

At that, Farkle’s heart stops beating in his chest. Their son. They have a son. A little boy that’s all theirs. Farkle is going to teach him how to do times tables, and how to tie a tie, and how to ride a bike. And Lucas will teach him how to play catch, and how to swim, and how to drive. They have a lifetime of adventure in front of them, and he can’t wait to start. Lucas squeezes his shoulder, the only thing bringing him out of his reverie, and he shakes himself. Then he glances at Lucas, who, the big, lovable freak, has tears streaming down his face, and he tries for a scoff but it comes out a sob. “Yeah,” Farkle says eventually. “Yeah, we’re ready.”

They stand and Riley leads them inside, to where Maya, exhausted, sweaty, and pink from her neck to her ears, is holding a small blue bundle on her chest. Smackle is kneeling next to her, holding the hand not cradling the baby, and they both look up and smile as they enter. “Hello,” Smackle says softly, and if Farkle didn’t know her any better, he would say she was going to cry. But she just smiles again and says, “He’s beautiful.”

He looks to Maya, and she raises her eyebrows. “All I know is - this kid better appreciate his Aunt Maya,” she says menacingly, and Farkle chuckles. “Like, seriously, he literally owes me his life. Don’t let him be a brat, okay?” She sniffles, and her voice is wet and small, and Farkle wants to hug her so much right now. She smiles tiredly, and says, “Okay, come get your kid so I can take a nap.”

It’s Lucas who crosses the room first, scooping the baby out of her arms gently and slowly. Once he’s transitioned, only fussing slightly as he goes, Maya sighs and closes her eyes, her hand still loosely in Smackle’s as she drifts off to sleep.

Lucas gives him a small nod, and he shuffles over, the fear of them not being ready still niggling in the back of his mind, the voice repeating it getting louder and louder with each and every step he takes. But when he sees the pink, wrinkled face of their son, scrunched up with sleep as he dozes in Lucas’s arms, that all fades away. All he hears is a third and steady heartbeat, and light breathing with tiny lungs; and all he sees is a button nose, and big dark lashes that flutter on his cheek, and tiny little fists curled up to his chests. He doesn’t know what to say - what do you say when you see the most beautiful and perfect thing you have ever had the pleasure to see in your entire life? So all he says is “Wow,” because that’s all he can think to say. Lucas lets out a little huff, but to Farkle’s ears, it’s more of a “yeah, you got that right,” and he smiles. The tears are still streaming down Lucas’s face, and he reaches up with the bunched sleeve of his hoodie and wipes one away. Lucas glances at him, still smiling.

“So,” Riley says from where she’s leaning against the doorway. “What’re you going to name him?”

At once, Lucas and Farkle look at each other. “We don’t know,” Farkle confesses honestly, letting it out in one long breath. Riley quirks an eyebrow, amused. “We didn’t talk about it. We - uh, what do you think?”

Lucas has gone back to looking at their son, bouncing him gently in his arms. Farkle’s breath hitches. If he were the Grinch, he may say that his heart grew three sizes that day, looking at the two people he loved most in the world in a moment of uninterrupted domestic bliss. He was so unabashedly happy, a feeling he had nearly forgotten until now. “I don’t know,” Lucas murmurs. “Your family loves eclectic names. Should we go for something… unique?”

That nearly makes Farkle’s neck break with how fast he whips his head around to look at his husband. His poor, dumb husband. “What,” he begins flatly, “do you mean unique?”

Humming, Lucas glances up at him. Luckily, he’s stopped crying, and the tears are now just a leftover flow of happiness from the past few moments. “I don’t know, something science-y maybe?” he suggests. “Like… Pluto. Or Mitochondria?”

Farkle groans and puts a hand on his head. “Lucas,” he says, “do you hate our child?” Lucas reels, blinking, and Farkle steamrolls on. “Do you know how shitty a life it was going through school named Farkle? I can’t imagine naming my kid something awful like that. He’s already saddled with Minkus as a last name because you insisted on taking my name, let’s not screw him over twice.” He pauses and adds, “Maybe as a middle name. Also, you cross-referenced two separate sciences. That’s just sloppy work, freak face.”

It’s then that Lucas gives him That Look - his favorite look. The look that says, ‘this, this right here - this is why I married you.’ “I love you,” he says, and Farkle grins at him. “Fine. What do you think?”

He pauses for a moment, then says, “Liam.” Everyone frowns at him, confused, minus Lucas who grins. “It means warrior, protector. He’s the oldest child; he’s the protector.”

“It’s perfect,” Lucas murmurs, looking back down at the baby with total adoration. “Liam.” He grins, then looks back up at Farkle with a mischievous glint in his eye. It’s a look Farkle knows fairly well by now, and he kind of loves it. “Erasmus,” he says, and it’s not a suggestion, it’s a decision, and Farkle nearly swoons.

“English for the rest of us?” Riley chirps, and Farkle laughs.

“He was a social teacher,” Smackle pipes up, and they all look to her. She shrugs. “I proofread Farkle’s doctorate thesis when we were in college.”

He nods. “I did my thesis on the early study of evolution,” he replies, “and I was obsessed with Erasmus. Lucas read over my paper.”

Lucas, who’s busy bouncing the baby again, says, “I didn’t understand a single word. But Farkle could talk about Erasmus for hours on end.”

“And Lucas would let me,” he says fondly, and Riley laughs.

“Liam Erasmus Minkus,” she mutters. “For someone who supposedly doesn’t hate their kid, you sure went and did that.” Farkle and Lucas shoot her a playful glare, and she sticks out her tongue.

There’s a long pause as Farkle and Lucas admire their son, and Smackle sticks her hand to Maya’s forehead. And then Riley says, “Wait, what do you mean by ‘oldest?’ Don’t you mean ‘only?’”

[thevalerierenee]

Grateful + Good Food

[02/12/19]

Tuesday

      This morning started off a bit bumpy but we’re on the right track for today, haha! I woke up a bit late and my boyfriend ended up picking me up a bit early but it all worked out because my best friend Emily is a life saver and brought me breakfast! Now, I am just repeating my closing statement over and over and timing it so tomorrow will go smoothly. I’m getting nervous! But I am also so tired that I feel like I have no energy to practice speaking, what the heck?! I guess it’s just one of those days where my heart and energy is easily focused into thinking and writing instead of speaking - which is great for when I need to finish writing my group’s presentation script, but not good when it comes to practicing presentations... 

      Anywho, I have a feeling that today will have its ups and downs, especially because I am somewhat insecure today because I wore leggings and a t-shirt with slides, which doesn’t all match the greatest. But that’s okay! It’s comfy and I have practice after school so I’m not even gonna worry about it! A lot is due between this week and next week in my classes, and a lot is expected of me in terms of mock trial, guard, and my group’s presentation in two weeks that gets submitted to the college board!! I believe we will do great, it’s the process of getting to that point that I am worried about with our group dynamics, but no group is perfect and it is definitely going to go smoother than my last group presentation (would you like to hear more on that? Let me know!). Well, it’s only first period and this post is already long so I will let you guys go and get back to you later on! 

      At this point, it is much later in the day and I am so exhausted. I don’t want to work on anything - just sleep. Just take a nap. Right now, I’d love to work on my blog or sleep or watch Netflix but anything but be here. I’ve got so much to do, it seems, but no motivation to do it. School is almost over but I still have practice right after school, ugh. I hate having practice after school in the band room because of all the spit soaked into the floor that we all roll around on. 

      I have been pretty healthy today. For breakfast, I had a protein shake and later a muffin, then I had taco triangles, carrots, pineapple, and a fruit and grain bar for lunch with a vitamin water. Maybe if I keep this up, I will lose the weight I want to. I can’t wait to start going back to the gym in the mornings and making good breakfasts! I love breakfast, especially cereal, it’s honestly my favorite meal of the day is breakfast! Just not eggs, sausage and stuff, just cereal, haha!

      Again, it is now much later in the day, in fact it is now night. Practice went well, I’d say. We were let our 30 minutes early, and if you’ve read my previous posts, that is a LONG time! I was so grateful. Now, I am in bed finishing up this post for you! I tried to work on homework after I got home, around 6:30pm, but I am way too tired. After texting her, I found out Emily was too. So, we decided that we would both just go to sleep and wake up early tomorrow to finish up homework and studying. I’m so grateful to have a best friend like her! I love how we motivate each other to work on our blogs and towards other goals we each have! In fact, she has been so successful lately at eating right and working out consistently, that it motivates me too and shows me that I can do it too! 

      Like I said earlier I have been eating healthy, or at least less, all day - and I haven’t stopped. After school but before practice I ate a small bag of Cheetos and had a blueberry muffin. For an evening snack I had some Doritos then had baked spaghetti and breadsticks for dinner, and a gatorade thrown in there somewhere. Wow, journaling about this makes me realize how much I eat. Now, keep in min I am an athlete. But that doesn’t account for the excess foods. But I am proud of how I have eaten today because I chose heather alternatives and spaced out my eating, therefore exercising self control. A small step is a step no matter how small, and for that I am grateful!

      Speaking of which, I have been so grateful all day! In fact, I just re-downloaded a bible app to my phone and iPad and have considered digital bible journaling. If not, then at least reading a quote a day from the app. I just need some faith back into my life. I was glad to hear that from my boyfriend recently, too. Out of the blue, he gave his friend a ride to church and tagged a long with him and his girlfriend for the entire service then told me he wanted to start going to church and getting closer to God. I can’t explain to you how much that mean to me! I honestly really do love God I just struggle with maintaining my faith and understanding. So to hear that the person I fell in love with wants to pursue something that we could pursue together and that would bring us closer, made me ecstatic. Though, this was all over text so the real situation didn’t play out as I made it sound, haha! 

      It looks like I went off on a tangent again, oops! Well, it really is getting late (not really but it feels really late bc I’m so tired), so I’m gonna wrap up today’s journal! All in all, today was a laid back, lazy irritable, but grateful day! Goodnight!

[kurlykookster]

Forbidden Fruit: Part 18

Pairing- Yoongi x reader (ft all of BTS and some of Got7)

Type- Mystery, supernatural and angst here and there and i guess some fluff

Warnings- Swearing n’ stuff + violence and blood

Word count- 2,208 jesus christ, oh wow i just realised that this makes up for not uploading last week lmao yw.

A/N- I enjoyed writing this chapter quite a bit, and I even finished it quicker than usual since I write every chapter on a Tuesday afternoon and upload it like midnight, but this is like double the usual length so geez *pats myself on the back*

I had a meningitis vaccine today and my arm fucking hurts like a bitch. The school thought it was a good idea to have it first thing in the morning, so i basically spent the whole day doing nothing because the vaccine made me super drowsy, moody and irritable like i even cried at one point and idk why I think I got too emotional about something at one point, laughed, and then suddenly burst into uncontrollable tears and i was just confu- oh wait no I just remembered that crying is apparently a symptom of the vaccine, it’s ok, I guess i wasnt dying lmao.

| Part 17 | Part 18 | Masterlist |

Your butt ached because of the hard surface of the window sill that lacked any comforting cushioning. Despite this, you stayed glued there, your head leaning against the glass and your back resting against the frame as you nonchalantly looked on at the outside world, the world that you could no longer recognise due to recent events. Seemingly normal looking people walked by on the streets below, maybe human, maybe not, it’s not like you could tell them apart anyway. Do I still count as human? The thought crossed your mind. Does a curse change you genetically?

A forlorn sigh coming from your nose accompanied the pitter-patter of slowing raindrops as the window that kept you out of the worlds reach collected a fraction of those droplets and let them lazily drool down its surface. Another sigh appeared, this time more meaningful and open mouthed, and soon after another one arose, even more prominent than the last. Boredom was your worst enemy. It had been a few days since you had last properly spoken to Yoongi, that being mostly his fault as it felt like he was intentionally avoiding you whenever possible. You missed teasing him and you missed him teasing you. A pout formed on your lips. Of course you had the other guys to talk to, but most of the members of this little “gang” weren’t ever around, one or two would stay and take care of you, making you feel comfortable and safe, but there wasn’t much for you to do. Yes there were the occasional conversations here and there that kept you entertained for a few fleeting minutes, however the dull wintry weather and the lack of sunlight was getting to you and you could no longer rely on others for that happy hormone boost. A disturbingly long groan erupted from your body and grew louder as you opened your mouth, but it was soon cut short by two consecutive knocks on the door of the room.

“Y/n? You alright in there?” you recognised the voice as Taehyung’s. He didn’t wait for an answer to walk in.

“Yeah… just bored.” You replied not shifting your gaze from the racing rain droplets.                              

“Why don’t you just go watch TV?” he enquired, shifting his head into a slight inquisitive tilt, just like the puppy he was.

“Jungkook hid the remote because I accidentally deleted his show recordings…” you sighed once more, it was a surprise that your soul hadn’t already left your body with the amount of times you had breathed out so deeply.

He sniggered in response, finding your misfortune funny. You shot a dissatisfied glance at him, deciding that your situation was nowhere near comedic. He stood with his hands in his pockets and looked around awkwardly as if he didn’t know where to put himself. A minute had passed while he just stood there like a lost child. “Do you need anything?” you shot at him. His eyes widened in surprise and he looked at you attentively and hummed to express that he wasn’t paying attention and needed a repeat, so you repeated yourself.

“Oh uh right… everyone’s here and we’re about to have a group meeting cause Namjoon’s finally back and uh… so yeah you should come.” He pointed towards the door using his thumb and turned slightly to indicate that you should follow him. You weren’t too sure why you had to attend a meeting, it’s not like you were a part of this group. None the less you still slid your butt off the ledge and began shuffling after Taehyung, your lower half was somewhat numb. Despite not knowing your purpose in the meeting, you were still curious as to what this Namjoon looked like since you hadn’t had a chance to meet him yet.

Everyone was sat around the table, two spaces left free for the two of you making your way over. At one end you noticed a new face, and the new face quickly smiled and began to get up once they saw you. They made their way over and held their hand out. “Namjoon, it’s nice to meet you Y/n. I hope everyone’s been treating you well.” He laughed, revealing the most prominent dimples you had ever seen in your life. You shook his hand and shyly smiled back. “Nice to meet you too and yeah everyone’s been nice, except Jungkook.” You shot him a glare while still smiling. You also wanted to say Yoongi’s name, since he was basically ignoring you now and treating you like air, though you felt you’d rather not bring that up in front of everyone.

“Ahh Jungkook can get a little out of hand, but please bear with him.” He chuckled apolagetically, but the threatening glance he shot from the corner of his eyes at Jungkook didn’t go unnoticed by you or the culprit. Jungkook visibly gulped at this small gesture and you smirked at him, finally finding justice.

Once everyone was at last seated, Jin was the first to speak. “So how’d it go with the council?”

“Well it was a bit rough at the start, no one knew how to handle the situation, and after all, Jaebum did break a lot of rules. I tried my best to keep things smooth, we managed to make a compromise and he’s gonna be on house arrest for a few months with some emotional therapy sessions to help him cope with things. Of course his group aren’t all that happy, but they’re glad that he’s not dead at least.” He released a fatigued breath and rubbed his eyes at the end, coming to terms with the situation finally being solved to an extent.

“That’s good to hear. Did you manage to find anything about Yoongi’s stabbers while you were there?” Jhope added. Your ears instantly perked up.

“I actually have” he smiled to himself and crossed his arms. “I talked to Jaebum’s guys and I asked them about his girlfriend’s killers, and I ended up finding out that they’re the same group of Hunters that attacked you two.” He gestured to you and Yoongi. “Apparently they’ve been a problem for a while, they track down and kill any supernaturals they can find and sell anything valuable from them.”

“But how did they know we were supernatural though, we had the enchanted jewellery things on.” You spoke up, sounding more pissed off than intended, but you were just annoyed that something like that happened to you two in the first place.

“They didn’t, they just try their luck with anyone by cornering and pressuring someone into accidentally revealing they weren’t human and you were in an area that is known for supernatural activity. They’ve actually killed a lot of humans too, and you see Y/n, the problem with that is that Hunter’s usually have the goal of eradicating our kind for good, but these Hunters are just in it for the money, they don’t care about the fellow humans they kill.”

You held your mouth slightly ajar as your eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. “These Hunters are far from being human themselves then! They might as well just be demons!” you heard Jimin forcefully cough at your wording as he felt offended that you would even compare demons to those monsters. “Oh no I don’t mean like you Jimin… I mean like… yunno, metaphorically…?” you face palmed yourself in your mind for being so careless around such a diverse group of people when you remembered Jhope explaining to you a little bit more about the group and he didn’t skip the details about what everyone was, so how could you forget so quickly?

Namjoon promptly continued going over everything that had happened while he was gone, and everyone else one by one filled in on how their individual tasks and jobs were going, except Yoongi who stayed quiet and only listened. You couldn’t help but keep glancing over at him as everyone spoke, you didn’t have anything to contribute to the conversation and you felt somewhat out of place. At one point Yoongi had caught you looking, but you didn’t break eye contact. You stood firm and burrowed into his pupils with your own, he can’t keep ignoring you like this. As expected he broke away pretty fast and once again aired you. What a prick. You bit the inside of your cheek as your patience began to grow thin. It seemed that the conversation between the boys had already turned into casual chat. Yoongi however was still silent and you weren’t the only one who was aware of this.

“-how about you Yoongi?” Jungkook dragged him into the ongoing conversation.

“I’m going to take a nap, I’ll talk to you guys later.” he said in monotone while he suddenly got up. Oh I don’t think so Glucose. You also got up “I have to sort out my clothes so I’ll talk later too.” You bluntly lied; your clothes were perfectly sorted already since you had nothing better to do with your boredom. Quickly, you followed after Yoongi, ignoring the questioning and unsure looks everyone was giving you and you faintly heard someone say something about Yoongi being in deep shit now as they laughed.

You couldn’t tell if Yoongi knew you had followed him or not, but he went into his (your temporary) room anyway. Seemed he was actually expecting to have a nap. You closed the door behind you and just as he dropped his body onto the bed, you began your mission.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“What do you mean? I’m not ignoring you.”

“You are and you know it.”

“I’m not so just let me nap.”

“See! You’re trying to ignore me again! Can you just tell me what I did wrong for fucks sake?” you huffed and crossed your arms. His back was facing towards you as he lay on the beg comfortably.

He was ignoring you again.

You’d had enough. Angrily, you walked over to his body and picked up a nearby pillow. You lifted it above your head and held it there for a second, contemplating whether you would regret this decision. Before he could get the chance to turn his body and look at you, you brought the pillow down with all your force and speed like an axe on blocks of wood. The sound of the material of the pillow slapping against his vulnerable body was satisfying as the surprised groans of the body also escaped.

“Don’t-” you began to say as you once again brought the pillow above your head and back down at the speed of light to hit him.

“Be-” even harder than the last, you hit him and listened to his weak grunts.

“A-” with everyone word came another moan of pain as the soft pillow battered his curled up form.

“Little-” another hit.

“Bitch!” and there was the last hit. You heaved air into your lungs from the excessive use of your unused muscles.

“What the Fuck? Why did you have to hit me so much!” he angrily retaliated, finally being given time to react to your onslaught.

“Why are you ignoring me! I don’t remember doing anything bad to you…apart from just now, but that’s not the point!” you almost screamed in frustration.

He curled back up, and didn’t look at you like he usually did when you questioned him. “You didn’t do anything…” he began quietly and paused. “I just felt awkward about talking to you after what I said last time when you asked why I saved you…” he grumbled almost in a whisper. You softened up. The more you got to know him, the more he just reminded you of a shy little boy who didn’t know how to confront people. The way he was curled up and the way he spoke made you sympathetically pout, he just made you want to pat his head. You no longer felt angry about all the ignoring.

Smoothly and quietly, you made your way around the bed and plopped yourself down onto the covers so that you were lying down facing him. For a little while you gazed at him as he just looked down and away from you. You pulled your bottom lip into a pouty frown. “How’s youw wittle boo boo doing” you teased in a baby voice, poking at his tummy with a finger. A short laugh escaped him as he subtly glared at you and you just smiled back happily.

“It’s fine, so can I have my ring back?” he whined as he looked at you with puppy eyes.

“No. Not until you apologise for being mean to me.” Not that you needed an apology.

“I’m sorry.” He grumbled.

“I accept your apology.” You smirked.

“So can I have it now?” he reached out his hand expectantly.

“You’ll have to help me find it first.” You gracelessly laughed while getting off the bed, ignoring his angry scowl.

“You lost it?” he stated rather than asked in disbelief.

“I just misplaced it, don’t worry we’ll find it.” You smiled in attempts to feign innocence. He sighed grumpily as he buried his face deeper into the pillow it was on.

“Let me take a nap first.”

A/n- :))))))))))))))